THE CONDUCTOR. My advice to _you_ is to have a berth made up, and go to
bed till we get to Boston, and surprise your wife by telling her what you
tried to do.
MR. ROBERTS (unable to resent the patronage of this suggestion). Well, I
don't know but I will.
THE CONDUCTOR (going out). The porter will make up the berth for you.
MR. ROBERTS (to THE PORTER, who is about to pull down the upper berth
over a vacant seat). Ah! Er--I--I don't think I'll trouble you to make
it up; it's so near morning now. Just bring me a pillow, and I'll try to
get a nap without lying down.
[He takes the vacant seat.]
THE PORTER. All right, sah.
[He goes to the end of the car and returns with a pillow.]
MR. ROBERTS. Ah--porter!
THE PORTER. Yes, sah.
MR. ROBERTS. Of course you didn't notice; but you don't think you _did_
notice who was in that berth yonder?
[He indicates a certain berth.]
THE PORTER. Dat's a gen'leman in dat berth, I think, sah.
MR. ROBERTS (astutely). There's a bonnet hanging from the hook at the
top. I'm not sure, but it looks like my wife's bonnet.
THE PORTER (evidently shaken by this reasoning, but recovering his
firmness). Yes, sah. But you can't depend upon de ladies to hang deir
bonnets on de right hook. Jes' likely as not dat lady's took de hook at
de foot of her berth instead o' de head. Sometimes dey takes both.
MR. ROBERTS. Ah! [After a pause.] Porter!
THE PORTER. Yes, sah.
MR. ROBERTS. You wouldn't feel justified in looking?
THE PORTER. I couldn't, sah; I couldn't, indeed.
MR. ROBERTS (reaching his left hand toward THE PORTER'S, and pressing a
half dollar into his instantly responsive palm). But there's nothing to
prevent _my_ looking if I feel perfectly sure of the bonnet?
THE PORTER. N-no, sah.
MR. ROBERTS. All right.
[THE PORTER retires to the end of the car, and resumes the work of
polishing the passengers' boots. After an interval of quiet, MR. ROBERTS
rises, and, looking about him with what he feels to be melodramatic
stealth, approaches the suspected berth. He unloops the curtain with a
trembling hand, and peers ineffectually in; he advances his head further
and further into the darkened recess, and then suddenly dodges back
again, with THE CALIFORNIAN hanging to his neckcloth with one hand.]
THE CALIFORNIAN (savagely). What do you want?
MR. ROBERTS (struggling and breathless). I--I--I want my wife.
THE CALIFORNIAN. Want your wife! Have _I_ got your wife?
MR. ROBERTS. No--ah--that is--ah, excuse me--I thought you _were_ my
wife.
THE CALIFORNIAN (getting out of the berth, but at the same time keeping
hold of MR. ROBERTS). Thought I was your _wife_! Do I look like your
wife? You can't play that on me, old man. Porter! conductor!
MR. ROBERTS (agonized). Oh, I beseech you, my dear sir, don't--don't! I
can explain it--I can indeed. I know it has an ugly look; but if you
will allow me two words--only two words--
MRS. ROBERTS (suddenly parting the curtain of her berth, and springing
out into the aisle, with her hair wildly dishevelled). Edward!
MR. ROBERTS. Oh, Agnes, explain to this gentleman! [Imploringly.] Don't
you know me?
A VOICE. Make him show you the strawberry mark on his left arm.
MRS. ROBERTS. Edward! Edward! [THE CALIFORNIAN mechanically looses his
grip, and they fly into each other's embrace.] Where did you come from?
A VOICE. Centre door, left hand, one back.
THE CONDUCTOR (returning with his lantern). Hallo! What's the matter
here?
A VOICE. Train robbers! Throw up your hands! Tell the
express-messenger to bring his safe.
[The passengers emerge from their berths in various deshabille and
bewilderment.]
THE CONDUCTOR (to MR. ROBERTS). Have you been making all this row,
waking up my passengers?
THE CALIFORNIAN. No, sir, he hasn't. I've been making this row. This
gentleman was peaceably looking for his wife, and I misunderstood him.
You want to say anything to me?
THE CONDUCTOR (silently taking THE CALIFORNIAN'S measure with his eye, as
he stands six fret in his stockings). If I did, I'd get the biggest
brakeman I could find to do it for me. _I've_ got nothing to say except
that I think you'd better all go back to bed again.
[He goes out, and the passengers disappear one by one, leaving the
ROBERTSES and THE CALIFORNIAN alone.]
THE CALIFORNIAN (to MR. ROBERTS). Stranger, I'm sorry I got you into
this scrape.
MR. ROBERTS. Oh, don't speak of it, my dear sir. I'm sure we owe you
all sorts of apologies, which I shall be most happy to offer you at my
house in Boston, with every needful explanation. [He takes out his card,
and gives it to THE CALIFORNIAN, who looks at it, and then looks at MR.
ROBERTS curiously.] There's my address, and I'm sure we shall both be
glad to have you call.
MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, yes indeed. [THE CALIFORNIAN parts the curtains of
his berth to re-enter it.] Good-night, sir, and I assure you _we_ shall
do nothing more to disturb you--shall we, Edward?
MR. ROBERTS. No. And now, dear, I think you'd better go back to your
berth.
MRS. ROBERTS. I couldn't sleep, and I shall not go back. Is this your
place? I will just rest my head on your shoulder; and we must both be
perfectly quiet. You've no idea what a nuisance I have been making of
myself. The whole car was perfectly furious at me one time, I kept
talking so loud. I don't know how I came to do it, but I suppose it was
thinking about you and Willis meeting without knowing each other made me
nervous, and I couldn't be still. I woke everybody up with my talking,
and some of them were quite outrageous in their remarks; but I didn't
blame them the least bit, for I should have been just as bad. That
California gentleman was perfectly splendid, though. I can tell you _he_
made them stop. We struck up quite a friendship. I told him I had a
brother coming on from California, and he's going to try to think whether
he knows Willis. [Groans and inarticulate protests make themselves heard
from different berths.] I declare, I've got to talking again! There,
now, I _shall_ stop, and they won't hear another squeak from me the rest
of the night. [She lifts her head from her husband's shoulder.] I
wonder if baby will roll out. He _does_ kick so! And I just sprang up
and left him when I heard your voice, without putting anything to keep
him in. I _must_ go and have a look at him, or I never can settle down.
No, no, don't you go, Edward; you'll be prying into all the wrong berths
in the car, you poor thing! You stay here, and I'll be back in half a
second. I wonder which is my berth. Ah! that's it; I know the one now.
[She makes a sudden dash at a berth, and pulling open the curtains is
confronted by the bearded visage of THE CALIFORNIAN.] Ah! Ow! ow!
Edward! Ah! I--I beg your pardon, sir; excuse me; I didn't know it was
you. I came for my baby.
THE CALIFORNIAN (solemnly). I haven't got any baby, ma'am.
MRS. ROBERTS. No--no--I thought you were my baby.
THE CALIFORNIAN. Perhaps I am, ma'am; I've lost so much sleep I could
cry, anyway. Do I _look_ like your baby?
MRS. ROBERTS. No, no, you don't. [In distress that overcomes her
mortification.] Oh, where is my baby? I left him all uncovered, and
he'll take his death of cold, even if he doesn't roll out. Oh, Edward,
Edward, help me to find baby!
MR. ROBERTS (bustling aimlessly about). Yes, yes; certainly, my dear.
But don't be alarmed; we shall find him.
THE CALIFORNIAN (getting out in his stocking feet). We shall find him,
ma'am, if we have to search every berth in this car. Don't you take on.
That baby's going to be found if he's aboard the train, now, you bet! [He
looks about and then tears open the curtains of a berth at random.] That
your baby, ma'am?
MRS. ROBERTS (flying upon the infant thus exposed). Oh, _baby_, baby,
baby!! I thought I had lost you. Um! um! um!
[She clasps him in her arms, and covers his face and neck with kisses.]
THE CALIFORNIAN (as he gets back into his berth, sotto voce). I wish I
_had_ been her baby.
MRS. ROBERTS (returning with her husband to his seat, and bringing the
baby with her). There! Did you ever see such a sleeper, Edward? [In
her ecstasy she abandons all control of her voice, and joyfully
exclaims.] He has slept all through this excitement, without a wink.
A solemn Voice from one of the berths. I envy him.
[A laugh follows, in which all the passengers join.]
MRS. ROBERTS (in a hoarse whisper, breaking a little with laughter). Oh,
my goodness! there I went again. But how funny! I assure you, Edward,
that if their remarks had not been about me, I could have really quite
enjoyed some of them. I wish there had been somebody here to take them
down. And I hope I shall see some of the speakers in the morning
before--Edward, I've got an idea!
MR. ROBERTS (endeavoring to teach his wife by example to lower her voice,
which has risen again). What--what is it, my dear?
MRS. ROBERTS. Why, don't you see? How perfectly ridiculous it was of me
not to think of it before! though I did think of it once, and hadn't the
courage to insist upon it. But of course it is; and it accounts for his
being so polite and kind to me through all, and it's the only thing that
can. Yes, yes, it must be.
MR. ROBERTS (mystified). What?
MRS. ROBERTS. Willis.
MR. ROBERTS. Who?
MRS. ROBERTS. This Californian.
MR. ROBERTS. Oh!
MRS. ROBERTS. No _stranger_ could have been so patient
and--and--attentive; and I know that he recognized me from the first, and
he's just kept it up for a joke, so as to surprise us and have a good
laugh at us when we get to Boston. Of _course_ it's Willis.
MR. ROBERTS (doubtfully). Do you think so, my dear?
MRS. ROBERTS. I _know_ it. Didn't you notice how he looked at your
card? And I want you to go at once and speak to him, and turn the tables
on him.
MR. ROBERTS. I--I'd rather _not_, my dear.
MRS. ROBERTS. Why, Edward, what can you mean?
MR. ROBERTS. He's very violent. Suppose it _shouldn't_ be Willis?
MRS. ROBERTS. Nonsense! It _is_ Willis. Come, let's both go and just
tax him with it. He can't deny it, after all he's done for me. [She
pulls her reluctant husband toward THE CALIFORNIAN'S berth, and they each
draw a curtain.] Willis!
THE CALIFORNIAN (with plaintive endurance). Well, ma'am?
MRS. ROBERTS (triumphantly). There! I knew it was you all along. How
could you play such a joke on me?
THE CALIFORNIAN. I didn't know there'd been any joke; but I suppose
there must have been, if you say so. Who am I now, ma'am--your husband,
or your baby, or your husband's wife, or--
MRS. ROBERTS. How funny you are! You _know_ you're Willis Campbell, my
only brother. Now _don't_ try to keep it up any longer, Willis.
[Voices from various berths. "Give us a rest, Willis!" "Joke's too
thin, Willis!" "You're played out, Willis!" "Own up, old fellow--own
up!"]
THE CALIFORNIAN (issuing from his berth, and walking up and down the
aisle, as before, till quiet is restored). I haven't got any sister, and
my name ain't Willis, and it ain't Campbell. I'm very sorry, because I'd
like to oblige you any way I could.
MRS. ROBERTS (in deep mortification). It's I who ought to apologize, and
I do most humbly. I don't know what to say; but when I got to thinking
about it, and how kind you had been to me, and how sweet you had been
under all my--interruptions, I felt perfectly sure that you couldn't be a
mere stranger, and then the idea struck me that you must be my brother in
disguise; and I was so certain of it that I couldn't help just letting
you know that we'd found you out, and--
MR. ROBERTS (offering a belated and feeble moral support). Yes.
MRS. ROBERTS (promptly turning upon him). And _you_ ought to have kept
me from making such a simpleton of myself, Edward.
THE CALIFORNIAN (soothingly). Well, ma'am, that ain't always so easy. A
man may mean well, and yet not be able to carry out his intentions. But
it's all right. And I reckon we'd better try to quiet down again, and
get what rest we can.
MRS. ROBERTS. Why, yes, certainly; and I will try--oh, I will _try_ not
to disturb you again. And if there's anything we can do in reparation
after we reach Boston, we shall be so glad to do it!
[They bow themselves away, and return to their seat, while THE
CALIFORNIAN re-enters his berth.]